


Easy

by GateGremlyn



Category: Stargate SG-1
Genre: Angst, Challenge Response, Friendship, Humor, M/M, Post-Series, Pre-Slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-08-11
Updated: 2011-08-11
Packaged: 2017-10-22 12:03:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,789
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/237816
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GateGremlyn/pseuds/GateGremlyn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>We all is said and done, it's easy.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Easy

Title: Easy  
Author:  
Category: Jack/Daniel  
Rating:PG at best for a few bad words.  
Word Count: ~1800  
Warning: Extreme sappiness. Really.  
Inspired by this wonderful [manip](http://jackdanielpromptfic.dreamwidth.org/47602.html)

Set a few years in the future.

~::~

I love that smile, I always have. And I love his head on my shoulder. I also love the fact that he's drunk enough to do it because how often does that happen? You'd think after this many years, after all the ways he's grown, he would have learned to hold his liquor. But no, he's still a cheap date, kind of loose and dopey and sweet. We've been drinking most of the night here in my Washington digs. I asked him if he wanted to go out and he said, “No, let's stay home... here. Let's stay here.”

I caught the slip of the tongue. Daniel's only been here a few times; his schedule and mine don't mesh much anymore. I've been to the Springs on business at the SGC more than he's been to Washington. When I'm there I sometimes crash at his place--if he's not off-planet getting into some kind of trouble. So having him think of this place as home tells me it's not the place, it's the person. Me. It's me he thinks of as home. Which is very okay, but maybe a little unexpected.

You see, Daniel and I had a “thing” once, years ago, before I went to Washington and he tried to go to Atlantis. After I became “the man,” we decided it was time to give it a try. We weren't on the same team anymore, so why not? We'd known for years what kind of feelings we had for each other, but the jobs, our responsibilities came first. Always. We wouldn't screw up the team dynamic that way, and neither of us would transfer to another team; it wasn't even a question. So for years we flirted and stayed friends and went on.

But the “General” thing put a whole new spin on our relationship. We thought that maybe we'd be free to do more than flirt... like have sex. Which we did as often as we could find the time. And it was great... until it wasn't. General O'Neill had to make a decision--whether or not to blow up a ship with his friends in it—and found he couldn't. When I told them it was a tough choice, I wasn't kidding. It was too damn hard. It wasn't just Daniel, it was Carter and Teal'c as well, but I knew it was having sex with Daniel that had clouded my judgment, made me hesitate when I shouldn't have. After that debacle, Daniel and I shook hands, patted each other on the back, and went our separate ways. Eventually, I went to play with the big boys in Washington; Daniel missed out on Atlantis and went through the 'gate with a new team leader. Life went on. Change is inevitable, they say, whoever the hell “they” are.

We each had other relationships. I slept with Kerry Johnson and Sam Carter. Daniel slept with Vala Mal Doran and Cam Mitchell, according to base scuttlebutt... which bugged the hell out of me because we never slept together when we were on the same team. But, as I said, things change.

I got older. Daniel got wiser. We grew apart. Even apart we were always friends.

There comes a time when life is about the the little things; the smell of coffee in the morning, the feel of a soft breeze across your face, the sound of your favorite opera. It's a good place to be, a comfortable place, and I'm content to be there. I've had one hell of a career, and I got most of the stuff I wanted in my life, so I'm content to let retirement be a quiet time. I might do what General Hammond did and write my memoirs. They'll have to be kept in a locked vault for fifty years, but maybe someday somebody will read them and wonder about the devil-may-care colonel who led his team to greatness.

Maybe not.

I pull myself out of daydreams to notice Daniel still hasn't moved. “You asleep?”

“Nope.”

“You drunk?”

“Oh, yeah.” There's almost a giggle. “Really drunk.”

“You planning on moving anytime soon?”

There's a pause and he says, “Maybe.”

I chuckle. “You know we can't stay like this forever.”

“Why not?” The voice is faint, buried in my neck, and I realize I'd _like_ to stay like this forever.

“Because I'm an old man,” I tell him without bitterness, “and I think that ship has sailed.”

“Why?” Daniel says, tucking his head under my chin. “Did you stop taking your Viagra?”

“I've never--” and then I feel the laughter running through his body and the little chuffs of air across my chest. “I'll have you know I have never used or _needed_ Viagra.” Although who the hell would know, it's been so many years since I tested it out with another person in the room.

“Glad to hear it,” he says.

And then I buy a clue. “Daniel,” I push him upright to look into his out-of-focus and still beautifully blue eyes, “are you saying what I think you're saying?”

“That's a little indirect for you, Jack.” He grins and bobs his head, drunk enough to think this is funny.

I push away from him because even after all these years, even though I've made peace with what we were and what we are, it still hurts. As a matter of fact, I'm surprised how much it hurts. “We're old news, Daniel.” My voice is sharper than I want it to be. “Water under the bridge. Over.”

“Do I need to spell it out for you?” Daniel's upright, but just barely. “I came here to congratulate you on your retirement.”

When he doesn't go on, I say, “Thank you,” and look away.

“ _Congratulate_ you, Jack. I came here,” he continues, his voice slurred, “to ask you if we could... if you....”

Now Daniel's the one fumbling. “If we could...? What, have sex? No, Daniel, we can't. Been there, done that, remember?” I find myself suddenly angry. “Did you run out of team members to sleep with, because we're not on the same team anymore, Daniel, in case you hadn't noticed.”

“No, we're not on the same team anymore, not for a long time. You retired.” He turns away from me. “So did I.”

What did he say? “Repeat that last part.”

“You retired.”

“I know that.” Twenty years together and we're still doing this word dance. “The next part.”

He turns back to me. His face, once flushed, is white. “I retired, too.”

I'm blinking stupidly, staring at him.

“I mean, I've waited until we were both... to ask....”

“You retired?” I'm having a hard time digesting this. “What the hell for? You're barely forty, and you're the most valuable asset the SGC has. You can't retire.” An old war horse like me, hell yeah, but Daniel?

“I'm over fifty, Jack, and yes I can.”

Fifty? He doesn't look it, but he never did look his age. Sure, he has a few crow's feet that weren't there a few years ago, and he's got a few strands of silver in his hair, but fifty? No way. Still, when I first met him, I thought he was barely out of high school until I learned he had two PhD's. Maybe he _is_ fifty after all. “Why,” I blurt out, “why would you retire?” I choke on the next words: “Why would you want to be with an old geezer like me?”

“Because I've waited for you, you stubborn old fool. Because in all the years we've known one another, there's never been anyone else for me, not after Sha're. Not Vala or Cam no matter what you've heard.” His eyes snap with fear and anger and excitement, and adrenalin has burned away all the blurriness. “Because it took you for damn _ever_ to finally put your job aside and let me do the same. Because I love you. Didn't you know? I've loved you for so _damn_ long.”

All the energy drains out of him and he falls back on my chest. Startled, I catch him. I can see a clenched fist resting on his thigh; I can feel his rapidly beating heart under my hand. I wrap my other arm around him holding him, this man who has been part of my life—been my life for so long--and squeeze. “I love you too.” It's so damn easy to say I wonder why we never said it before. “I've always loved you, even when....” I can't finish the sentence even though Kerry and Carter were a long time ago.

“I know,” he says and kisses me. It's a soft kiss and sloppy because he's still a little drunk and I'm still a little shell-shocked. We knew how once; we knew how to kiss. Sloppy or not this kiss is better because it's not the here-and-gone kisses of before, it's the first kiss of the rest of our lives, as gloriously sappy as that sounds.

I can feel his smile. I love that smile, I always have. And I love his head on my shoulder. I love that his head on my shoulder means he's here, with me. Crazy idealist that he is, he waited for me without saying a word. I lean over and kiss him on the forehead. “You always going to be a cheap date?”

He snorts. “You won't even have to get me drunk,” and then more softly, “you just have to let me stay.”

He moves against me, wrapping one arm around my waist, and I wonder how the hell we got to snuggling? Kissing, sure, but snuggling? I don't remember snuggling. I surrender to the inevitable and tighten my hold, wondering how I lived my life this long without Daniel in it for good and always. Stay? I'm not sure I'm ever going to let him loose. We may just grow old together right here, and when they come to find us, we'll be wrapped around each other like two vines. Then again, maybe not. I think we'll throw the “peaceful retirement” thing out the window and have hot, sticky, noisy sex a couple more times before the end, with our without the Viagra.

Life is about the little things; the smell of coffee in the morning, the sound of your favorite opera, the feel of the person you love drooling on your shoulder. After 20 years it's so very easy. I lean down and whisper in his ear, “Welcome home, Daniel.”

~::~


End file.
